All Ears on Me
by BlackWindButterfly
Summary: Gilbert Beilschmidt, the average college slacker, never expected a prissy teacher for band, but not only is the man filling his head with music, Professor Roderich Edelstein is finding his way into his affections as well. Human Au. PruAus Oneshot.


His pencil eraser tapped rhythmically against his open three-subject notebook. The nauseating stench of uncapped dry erase marker permeated through the room. It squeaked as graceful fingers wrote neat green letters across the board. Without the use of a ruler, they ran an exact parallel with the silver tray at the bottom. People began scribbling away or typing in the case of the person to his left. The African America let her fingers clatter loudly against the keys as she hammered out the notes onto a word pad.

If the notes were not being written on the board, no one would have had any clue what to write. Not only was the lecture lengthy, having nearly filled up thirty minutes already, but the teacher's accent was still rather heavy. He had only been in the states for six months, the Austrian having previously hailed from Vienna. While it was nowhere near as thick as his father's, Gilbert could hear how lips more accustom to speaking German fumbled to grasp English sounds such as "wah" and "th." Even his "and"s were lost to "und"s. Gilbert had the strange desire to hear Professor Edelstein speak his native tongue fluently then and there. It might have made the lesson clearer, but his country's dialect would have tainted the language. Then again, music was supposed to be a universal languages, most of the terms being Italian anyway.

It was the accent and dialect that reminded him of a joke his one friend, a Frenchman who went by the name Francis, had told him in high school. He raised his hand and waited patiently for Professor Edelstein's attention. As the gentleman turned around, he held Gilbert in his near violet blue gaze. He gestured at him as he paused. "Yes, vhat is it?"

"So, section G6 in the book," Gilbert started. Through some miracle, he managed to hold onto a neutral expression to hide his true nature, a nature permanently etched into his ruby gaze.

Roderich strolled leisurely forward to glance down at Gilbert's textbook. He was drawn toward a meaningless finger that Gilbert had rested on the page. Upon further inspection, the professor frowned, not finding the section that he was supposed to be explaining. "_G sechs_?" he questioned, the phrase coming out less pure to sound like "Gay sex".

Gilbert snickered loudly then. One or two other boys of the same maturity level added to the chorus. A woman at the end of his table scowled, nowhere near as amused.

Realizing his blunder, Roderich let his eyes widen before promptly narrowing them behind thin frames. His cheeks heated to a lovely pastel pink in his embarrassment or perhaps frustration. He tried to keep hold of his composure."May I continue the lesson now, Mr. Beilschmidt?"

The albino let his laughter die down. He nodded then, settling for a smirk. "_Ja, du kannst._"

Huffing, the teacher turned around and headed toward the front of the room again. He paused as he attempted to remember where he had left off. When the thoughts returned to him, he wrote down a few more words on the board before explaining them in depth. Any time he asked or answered a question from then on, his eyes would pause on Gilbert long enough to glare before he would pass over him to point at someone else.

Slipping his arm into the one sleeve of his black hooded sweatshirt, Gilbert peeked into the living room. His younger blonde brother sat on the forest green loveseat. The eleven year old had his eyes glued into a new book series that he had picked up from the school library, "The First Apprentice" or something like that. Gilbert had only been half listening to Ludwig's summary of what had happened so far. It did not help that Ludwig was poor at describing the details of a story with words.

"Hey kiddo," the albino called as tugged at the zipper. The ivory eagle on the right side of his jacket straightened itself out. His brother peeked his azure eyes up over the spine of his novel. "Vati comes home in an hour. I won't be back 'til later. Take care of yourself and feed Gilbird for me, will ya?"

Ludwig nodded. It was not abnormal for his older brother to leave him home alone when he had plans with his friends. He was rather mature for his age though and the house had yet to burn down. Gilbert classified that as a good decision. The younger brother frowned though. "What about my-"

Gilbert had already left the doorway though. Ludwig sighed, shaking his head. He should have expected as much. The college student lacked any sort of attention span or patience. Ludwig sometimes wondered why fate decided that he should be the younger brother.

When the door opened, Gilbert found himself staring at the professor he had taken to ridiculing that afternoon. Roderich jutted his lips to the side, less pleased to see Gilbert than his student was to see him. While there was less of a barrier between student and teacher in college, Roderich built the same kind of relationship with his students that a high school teacher would have. To see his personal life, or rather his two jobs cross was rather unnerving. He wondered why he had not seen it coming though. Beilschmidt was not exactly a common name in Pennsylvania. "I've come for Ludwig's piano lesson," he explained coolly.

_Verdammt_, he had forgotten all about the piano lessons. Their father had mentioned that he would be paying for them, fifteen bucks for half an hour. He had told them that if they had a piano, someone might as well play it and Gilbert had refused. The only instrument he would ever have the drive to play would be the flute.

"Then don't just stand there," he replied as he stepped out of the doorway.

Roderich welcomed himself inside the house. The door was shut behind him as Gilbert sighed, running a hand through his hair. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket then, his thumbs instantly striking against his keyboard to tell his friends that he would be making it to the bar late. Before he had the chance to send the message though, Roderich had draped his jacket across Gilbert's arm. The albino scrunched up his nose to show his displeasure as he watched his college professor make himself at home. He grumbled before hanging it up after an internal debate in which he swore his father was arguing with him in his head.

"_Hallo_," the piano teacher greeted his student. "I know I'm a little earlier zan scheduled, but I assume zat von't be a problem?" he quirked a brow at Ludwig.

The boy tucked away his novel, marking his place with a bookmark before standing. He nodded his head before trailing through the house to lead the teacher toward their piano. Curiosity peaked, Gilbert trailed after them. He watched as his brother exposed the ivory keys after sitting down at the bench. Roderich seated himself next to the boy before instructing him on the best playing technique. It looked the same as when Ludwig randomly pressed the keys, but those who knew the pianist's reputation knew that it was money well spent as he made virtuosos out of many of his students. However, only a few minutes of watching told Gilbert that Roderich was critical, the type of teacher who would push a person, possibly even to the point where they broke or cried, but that was the price of talent.

Plopping down uncouthly on the wooden bar stool, Gilbert offered his two friends a wave. They had saved him a seat at the end of the bar with them, placing him on Francis' left. The blonde waved two fingers as he took a sip from his wine glass. Their Spanish friend, Antonio, leaned forward to wave at him with an absent smile. "_Hola_ Gilly," he greeted.

"_Oui, Salut,_ Gilly," Francis echoed after swallowing the numbing liquid. "Sorry that your usual seat is taken." Gilbert usually sat between his two friends, but a red-head seemed to be occupying it instead. He had downed nearly as many beers as Gilbert would have at this point though, not that they were trying to replace him.

Taking hold of the beer in front of him, Gilbert playfully pouted. "I noticed. What's up with that, Franny? That seat has my name on it."

"I know, _mon cher_, but you were late," Francis argued.

"_Ja, ja_, so, who's he with?"

"_Moi._ His name is-"

"I can introduce masel ya know," the ginger cut in as he set his empty mug down with a sharp clink. He certainly was not from the states either. His accent suggested either Scottish or Australian or maybe even Irish. After years of debating which accent the Geico Gecko had, Gilbert had given up on trying to differentiate between any of them. His thick brows and green eyes, catlike, but nowhere near as feral as Antonio's own, suggested that he was probably Scottish or Irish. "Ian Kirkland."

Grasping the outstretched hand, Gilbert shook it. They squeezed tight for a millisecond before pulling away so that they were no longer reaching over Francis and the sleek mahogany bar table that had been scuffed from years of use and lack of coasters. "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Well met, Laddie." Ian rose his brows before waving the bartender over for another glass. "I've heard aw aboot ya." He shot a glance at Francis who held his hands up in surrender.

"You said that you wanted to come along," the Frenchman pointed out. Setting one hand down on his lap, the other on Ian's thigh, Francis set his friendly, perhaps overly-friendly, sapphires on his friend. "So, how was your first week back?"

Despite the fact that he knew Francis would have a mere fraction of his attention on him, Gilbert started. "It was awesome, like usual for the awesome me, but then this... prissy teacher ended up showing up to teach that music class that I ended up taking." He smirked. "I got him good though. Kesesese~"

"Hm?" Francis rose a brow, urging his friend to go on as he stroked the place where his right hand rested with his thumb.

Gilbert revisited the trick he had played on Roderich that afternoon. His two friends and new additional drinking acquaintance laughed with much gusto as they pictured the scene. Unlike his brother, Gilbert had excellent storytelling skills, perhaps too excellent as he often embellished on them to make them more grand than they really were. "Yeah, but here's where it bit me in the ass. This priss is little Luddy's piano teacher and I think he's the new band instructor too."

"Hey Franny," Antonio started as he glanced as best he could through the Scotsman at the person he was addressing. Ian was nearly a head taller than Francis so it was a feat naturally said more than done. "Do you remember the last music teacher Gilly had? The one he had a crush on?" he chimed in, totally unaware of how Gilbert may react.

Francis grinned before promptly nodding. "The one from high school, probably millenniums older than us, Friedrich something or rather."

Antonio nodded while scarlets grew to the size of saucers. Gilbert coughed, almost choking on his ale. He pounded a fist against his chest before swallowing what he could down his gullet and not his trachea. "I didn't have a crush on Fritz!" he shouted. "And he was fourty-five, Franny."

The muscles pulled tighter as the expression grew more impish. "Oh really? And how would you know that?"

"B-because he told us one time in band. You wouldn't know because you weren't awesome enough to be in it," Gilbert scrambled, trying to spit the words out faster than was necessary. It did nothing to help his case at all.

"Gilbert, that was the only class you ever tried to ace. Clearly, there was someone you were trying to impress."

Wet palms hurried to clutch onto an empty beer mug. Stalling, he managed to retrieve one drop from the bottom of the glass. Gilbert unzipped his sweatshirt in hopes that the heat in his face would be attributed to the warmth in the room and nothing else. "The hot chick next to me on first chair was an honors girl. I had to tell her I was good at something." Ironically though, it was not hard to earn an "A" in music as it was graded much like gym class, for participation. Only when one was put in the spotlight to play a part were they really graded for anything.

Humming in sarcastic belief, Francis nodded. "Sure you were, Gilly. I'm just saying that history has a habit of repeating itself."

"I didn't have a crush on him," Gilbert insisted. It was the truth. His relationship between Friedrich was more personal than it should have been, but it had not been romantic. Friedrich had been more of a father-like mentor. He had been the man to convince Gilbert that he had talent, that the flute was a much more noble instrument than it was given credit for. "And I'm too awesome to fall for some..."

"Piano shagger?" Ian added in Gilbert's search for an insult. "'least that's whit he sound like ta me."

Snorting, the albino nodded. They had been there little over an hour and he could already say that he was going to like this guy, not that he would be around for very long. To quote a song that Gilbert found to be horrible, Francis would often "change his mind like a girl changes clothes", which applied to jobs, love relationships, but never his friends.

"Yeah, Franny. I'm too awesome to fall for a piano shagger," Gilbert said, putting the two thoughts together in one sentence.

Giving up, Francis nodded before sipping at his whine glass again. He knew when he was beaten, but he would know if the time came for him to gloat about being right. Antonio took that as his cue to start up a new incredibly irrelevant topic for them to discuss. They spent the rest of the evening simply chatting.

The last notes of the piece hung in the air, reverberating on the walls specifically designed to have such excellent acoustics. Every instrument remained up as if there were notes left to play. Sections could be seen in banners of gold, black, and silver, while the percussion was scrambled in the back.

Professor Edelstein lowered his hands, silently telling the whole band to relax. It created a wave as all of the instruments fell down into rest positions. He dismissed the students for the evening then, taxing on the date and time of next weeks session before motioning toward the currently closed slate double doors. Everyone filtered off the stage in an instant. Music sheets shuffled off of the black metal stands and into folders. Students packed away instruments until their next practice, which could mean until their next meeting for some. They talked amongst friends before filing out of the building to head home or to their dorms.

Gilbert pulled apart his flute with care. He cleaned each section of the instrument before setting all three pieces into the navy padding of the ebony case. The latches clicked shut after he closed the lid. His music was shoved haphazardly into his folder, it holding much less value to him in comparison to his flute.

When he glanced up again, the conductor and nearly all of the other students were gone. He located Roderich quickly, though, as the teacher had only slipped into his office nearby. Gilbert could see him in the window, sitting on his leather swivel chair behind his desk. It was a neat and organized work place, but very impersonal. The only item that hinted into his private life was a photograph of him and a young woman with beautiful honey brown hair that rested in the middle of her back and striking emerald eyes. A pink flower was tucked in her hair behind her one ear and she wore a white wedding dress. Roderich stood beside her in an elegant tuxedo that suited him perfectly. Despite the splendor of the photo, it sat on the bookshelf in a plain metal frame.

As the albino headed for the door, he saw the same woman from the photo, albeit a little older, probably twenty-five years old now, head for the teacher's office. While her outer appearance read her to be calm, her rushed and heavy footsteps and the slamming of the office door told him otherwise.

Pausing, Gilbert heard a loud shrill shout come from her in a language that was neither English nor German. She ranted and soon a session of German followed her shouts. The walls and the door itself were thin, allowing for the stern voice that was now speaking to be heard on top of hers. Their conversation sounded less than friendly, especially given what he could translate.

Too nosy to simply leave outright, Gilbert hovered in the music room, listening. He had been right earlier, Roderich was easier to understand when speaking German. His words were not as harsh as the language was portrayed, in fact, the only thing that made the oddly sweet sound harsh was the tone the professor used with his wife. When he finally went to leave, the woman beat him to the exit. She stormed out, grumbling to herself. Was that Hungarian she was speaking?

Roderich jogged after her, hoping to catch up. He did not pass Gilbert a glance at all as he called after the woman. Her name was Elizabeta. Stopping at the doorway, Roderich sighed. He faltered, crumpling against the doorway. A shaky hand pushed his spectacles up before he propped himself up to a stand again, recovering quickly. As he turned to head to his office again, he spotted Gilbert. "_Kann ich dir helfen?_"

Gilbert opened his mouth and normally, he would have spoken, but for once, he realized that it was time for him to stay silent. He shook his head before strolling out of the building to go hail a cab.

"Beilschmidt, see me after class," Professor Edelstein began. "Dismissed"

With a sigh, Gilbert began to pack up his barren notebook. He only brought it so that he would seem busy. It was loaded into his backpack before he headed for the short table at the front that housed what Roderich needed for that class. The teacher brushed at the white board with an eraser, chipping away at the words as his arm swished back and forth like a windshield wiper. A few students called out farewells to him and waved. He halfheartedly called out after them.

"Is this about last week?" Gilbert asked with a raised brow. The teacher had to have figured out that he saw or at least heard the argument between him and his spouse. If he were in Roderich's shoes, he would have threatened a student witness into silence.

Roderich shook his head. He smiled bitterly. "No, zis has nothing to do vith my sham of a marriage or vhat you saw. But it has everything to do vith zis." Setting down the eraser now that the board was clean, he joined his student at his makeshift desk. A test paper was slid across the table for Gilbert to see. It had been out of fifty points and only two had been scored. "Tell me vhat you see here."

"My test," Gilbert answered plainly, not seeing the point despite how it was staring at him plainly.

"I see failure due to laziness und general apathy," Professor Edelstein corrected. He set both hands on the table to balance himself as he leaned forward, closing the distance between their faces to add an intensity to his statement. "I know you can do better zan zat. Although, zis isn't much of a matter of can, but of a must. If you don't pass this class, you don't graduate. Failure doesn't get you credits," he chided, breath hot against Gilbert's face.

Gilbert turned his head away, crinkling his nose some, not because the teacher was in need of a breath mint, but because he refused to admit what he was saying was true. "So?"

Roderich sighed before seating himself in the chair. After scooting forward, he folded his hands as he stared up at Gilbert. "How about zis? If you can show me improvement, I'll let you retake zat test. It's a rather large chunk of your grade und I vould rather not have you in another one of my classes."

The albino snorted. "I thought only high school teachers did that," he pointed out. Besides, if he failed this class, he could always take one that Roderich was not teaching to fill up the credit, not that he wanted to have to come back to school any longer than was required.

"I'm feeling generous, but vhat you do vith my offer is up to you."

Gilbert adjusted the single strap of his backpack to prevent it from digging into his shoulder. He paused as if thinking before he sneered. "All right, you're on, Teach."

There was a small tug at the corner of the professor's lips. It faded as soon as it had come though as he shooed Gilbert off so that he could prepare for his next class.

The smell of cologne and cigarette smoke wafted up into his nostrils as Gilbert descended the stairs into the bar. He had finished texting his friends seconds ago to tell them that they had arrived. While their meetings were weekly, he had showing up about once a month after the challenge had been proposed. His excuse changed every so often as he did not want them to belittle him in his thoughts. He did his best to hide his hard work from the rest of the world, letting his work speak for itself.

It seemed like everyone who knew him had decided to show up at the bar, even Ian. He and Francis fought often, but for reasons that Gilbert could not quite fathom, they were still together. During a week that they fought, Ian would not show up, which was almost every week that Gilbert decided to go. All three of them were there though, waiting for him with an already ordered beer.

"What took you so long, Gilly?" Francis asked with a pout, his bottom lip poking out in a far too perfect manner.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, having a strong immunity to Francis's pout. "I was studying."

"That's been your excuse for awhile now, mi amigo," Antonio started. "For what class? Professor Edelstein's?" Gilbert's silence confirmed that fact to be true.

"Trying to impress someone again?" Francis teased.

"_Nein_," the albino growled. "He's going to let me retake a test if I do well for the rest of the semester."

With a Chesire cat grin, Francis shifted in as close to his friend as his stool would allow. "Gilly, you know, there are other ways to earn extra credit." He winked then.

"I already told you-" Gilbert started to correct his friend.

"You know, I heard that there was a school for that in Austria. I wonder if he went."

"Francis."

"Well, you can always stay after class and put a desk to good use."

"Francis!" Gilbert shouted, face heated. He gave his sharply dressed friend an equally sharp shove, nearly making his stool topple. Francis fell to the side, clinging to Ian's blue t-shirt so that he wouldn't fall. The Scotsman helped right him with a sigh.

"Ya had that 'un commin'," Ian scolded.

"_Mon amour_, why must you be so cruel," Francis whined, hating it when it seemed as his own world had somehow turned against him. He clung to the ginger's arm, not planning on letting go anytime soon. Ian sighed before tilting his head down to press his lips against the blonde's forehead. Francis brightened some, reclaiming those lips with his own.

Antonio frowned, tilting his head to the side in his confusion. "I thought you said that he was married," he muttered, seeing a flaw in the apparent plan that Francis had.

Francis waved a dismissive hand as he broke away from Ian. "From what he said, they won't be married much longer anyway. Besides, I'd much rather see our petite Gilly be happy than some Hungarian brute."

The Spaniard slanted his lips before nodding. "_Si_, I guess that's true."

"_Ja_, except I don't want him. That bitch can have him, maybe I'll be lucky and she'll lock him up somewhere like a psycho." Which was perhaps the greatest lie that Gilbert had ever told. Trying to prove Roderich wrong had been his original intention, but the truth was that he had already taken the make-up exam. Now it really was a simple manner of impressing him, wanting to see that jaw drop before he was given a proper reward and it sure as hell better be more than an "A+" or a sticker that said "Good job".

"But then how are you supposed to get that passing grade, Gilly?"

Gilbert frowned, not having thought that far to see that flaw in his statement. He mulled over his beer with a sigh before putting the cool rim to his lips. He tilted his head back to finish off the first of many beverages.

Nearly any person can recall a time when they found it near impossible to focus on a lesson. Maybe they had stayed up too late one night, maybe it was the teacher's monotonous voice, or they were distracted. During one night of band practice, that very situation had befallen Gilbert, who was far too distracted to pay very much attention to anything at all.

They were fine tuning a piece that day for an end of the year concert. Roderich was doing his best to pick the whole piece apart measure by measure to see if there were any flaws and if there were, what section it was in.

Gilbert let crimsons stare on, utterly too engrossed with Roderich Edelstein's image. The expression changes were slight, but they often turned his lips thin, allowing a heavy accent to fall on the mole that rested on the left side of his lips. Slender, graceful pianist fingers would point, curl, and twitch. There were times when they arched as if he needed something to relieve hidden stress that was added upon by the troublesome pieces. Roderich strolled among his students, strides smooth and wide, bring him closer and closer as he transitioned through the different sections.

Soon, his imagination decided that it would run wild with him, choosing to entertain him as he sat still, not daring to breath too hard as if he would shattered the world around him. The rest of the students faded, leaving the albino alone in his seat, flute and stand gone, discarded as they came to be of little importance. Roderich strolled toward him, carefully sliding to sit down in his lap, ankles crossing over his as the professor's feet rested on the floor. Gilbert grunted, startled with the image.

The jabot around the teacher's neck was shed before it slipped around his own, drawing the baffled albino closer to him. Hot breath tickled his neck and lips ghosted over it, the sensations prickling against his skin memories from when he had the occasional escapade. Those lips were so soft and the kisses were like honey as they trailed up and down slowly. As Gilbert let his eyes fall closed, he could feel imaginary scrapes of teeth and a tongue that graced over the new love bites.

This image shattered, replaced by another. Gilbert heard the harsh snap of what he swore was a riding crop. He remembered Fritz swatting him with one a few times over the head or simply smacking it down against a surface to gain his classes' attention. While the method was questionable, it worked wonders. However, it was not the scolding voice of his old teacher that whispered in his ear. No, it was a foreign one holding a softer accent and lust. "Ready for your next lesson?" it whispered.

Reality smacked the albino full force in the face as the voice spoke again. "Gilbert, vhile I appreciate your attention, I asked you to play," Roderich scolded. He crossed his arms before impatiently tapping his foot against the ground.

Crimson eyes jolted open and Gilbert shook his head to clear it, face immediately heating to a tomato red. "Y-yeah," he stared. He always hated it when Francis was right...

* * *

><p>"You may now move your tassels from the right side to the left," the dean declared from the podium of the stadium.<p>

The day had finally come. Gilbert had made up the test and passed every class with exceptional grades, well, for him anyway. He sat among his fellow graduates in his black robes. He took hold of his tassel, moving it from the right to the left side as requested. It had taken them long enough. Not only did he have to sit through several speeches, but he swore there had been eighty people with last names starting with "A" and then the left over "B"s to go before him and they all so happened to be going for the same diploma.

All of the graduates were welcomed to go downstairs for the reception. People mingled, all of them happy, smiling, laughing. They munched on the supplied cookies and sipped at their punch from Styrofoam cups. Some students talked with favorite teachers. Gilbert would be no such exception. He spotted the man he was looking for as if he were wearing a neon sign that invited him over. He tried to discretely make a beeline toward him as he weaved through the alumni. "Hey..." he started, nowhere near as confident as he had hoped when he finally did approach him.

Beautiful amethysts started out distant before fading into the moment again as they recognized that their owner was being addressed. Roderich smiled softly. "Vell, you managed to pass my class," he muttered gently.

"Ja..." Gilbert agreed. He watched as Professor Edelstein nudged his glass up to mop at the sweat threatening to fall into his eye. It had been an unforgiving morning as the sun had beat down on the world as it made promises for summer. Unfortunately, the air-conditioning had broken just before the ceremony so those in robes were forced to suffer. A dull peachy smudge appeared on the black sleeve of the teacher's robe. Gilbert drew his brows together before noticing that the smudge had been make-up wiped away to reveal the dark black and blue coloring that created a ring around Roderich's eye. "Who gave you the shiner?"

Roderich froze, realizing what had occurred.. "I'd rather not say." The albino shook his head, silently assuring him that he didn't have to. "But I can assure you, ze papers vill be filed soon," he grumbled under his breath. Divorce papers, it took them long enough, not that Gilbert was positive who would be doing the actual filing part.

"You sound like you need a drink," Gilbert teased. "You can always come with me. My friends and I were going to go out tonight." They had planned to celebrate his accomplishment and after hearing so much about the teacher (especially after Francis decided to rub in that he had been right), he doubted that any of them would have a problem with him coming along.

The music teacher snorted before shaking his head. "I don't drink, but thank you for ze offer." There was a moment of silence until Roderich started up again. "Have you ever thought about joining a more professional orchestra?" Gilbert shook his head. "I entered one promptly after moving here. Ve recently lost a first chair flute so if you are in need of any vork..."

The albino laughed. "Like I want to see you any more than I already have to." Roderich let his eyes dart to the side with guilt. He had not really thought much on that. "They having auditions?"

A small smile crept onto the Austrian's face. "Two veeks from now. If you vanted, ve could... discuss it over coffee next veek before summer classes start."

Returning the expression, Gilbert nodded. "I'm free Thursday." A lie considering he really had nothing planned at all. He was sure that his father would find something for him to do between now and then though, probably move out if the albino continued to push his luck there.

"Thursday zen," Roderich confirmed. "Don't forget ze piece you plan to audition vith."

Gilbert groaned. That sounded like more work than he sought to do. If he had the chance to see Roderich more often though, he supposed his awesomeness could spend a few days searching for an audition piece.

* * *

><p>Translation Notes:<p>

_G sechs_ - G6

(If you pronounce this with a northern German accent, the "s" sound will sound more like that of a "z", but due to the fact that Roderich comes from Austria, it is pronounced with more of an English "s" sound, which makes it come out to sound like "Gay sex". Friends of mine convinced me to say this once, but I possess the northern accent when speaking.)

_Ja, du kannst._ - Yes, you can.

_Verdammt_ - Damn

_Hallo_ - Hello

_Hola_ - Hello

_Oui, Salut_- Yes, hello

_mon cher_ - my dear (male)

_Ja_ - Yes

_Moi_ - Me

_Kann ich dir helfen?_ - Can I help you?

_Nein_ - No

_Mon amour_ - My love

_Si_ - Yes

* * *

><p>Author's Notes:<p>

While this is very irrelevant to the story, the book that Little Luddy was actually reading was "The Last Apprentice". I was trying to think of a children's series for someone his age and I somehow saw him being interested in that one. I've only ever read the first two books myself.

Moving on. This was, I guess you could say, a Christmas present to myself. (Aren't I greedy? Although, I guess you, as my read, don't mind). I've been wanting to write this Teacher!Roderich x College Student!Gilbert scenario for awhile now. I felt like I needed a break from my multichapter "Kneeling at Your Feat", but I can assure you that I will be writing the next one up over break. I may even finish it with all the free time I'll have. I snuck in one of my other favorite and less popular pairings France x Scotland for my own personal amusement as well. Scotland seems like he could have been part of the trio, but due to how often he and Francis fight, he only shows up every once and awhile. I'm not sure if any of you found my poor attempts at comedy in this to be funny or not, but, this humored me at any rate. (Gilbert needs to stop basing his imagination off strip clubs and movies though.)

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot.

His pencil eraser tapped rhythmically against his open three-subject notebook. The nauseating stench of uncapped dry erase marker permeated through the room. It squeaked as graceful fingers wrote neat green letters across the board. Without the use of a ruler, they ran an exact parallel with the silver tray at the bottom. People began scribbling away or typing in the case of the person to his left. The African America let her fingers clatter loudly against the keys as she hammered out the notes onto a word pad.

If the notes were not being written on the board, no one would have had any clue what to write. Not only was the lecture lengthy, having nearly filled up thirty minutes already, but the teacher's accent was still rather heavy. He had only been in the states for six months, the Austrian having previously hailed from Vienna. While it was nowhere near as thick as his father's, Gilbert could hear how lips more accustom to speaking German fumbled to grasp English sounds such as "wah" and "th." Even his "and"s were lost to "und"s. Gilbert had the strange desire to hear Professor Edelstein speak his native tongue fluently then and there. It might have made the lesson clearer, but his country's dialect would have tainted the language. Then again, music was supposed to be a universal languages, most of the terms being Italian anyway.

It was the accent and dialect that reminded him of a joke his one friend, a Frenchman who went by the name Francis, had told him in high school. He raised his hand and waited patiently for Professor Edelstein's attention. As the gentleman turned around, he held Gilbert in his near violet blue gaze. He gestured at him as he paused. "Yes, vhat is it?"

"So, section G6 in the book," Gilbert started. Through some miracle, he managed to hold onto a neutral expression to hide his true nature, a nature permanently etched into his ruby gaze.

Roderich strolled leisurely forward to glance down at Gilbert's textbook. He was drawn toward a meaningless finger that Gilbert had rested on the page. Upon further inspection, the professor frowned, not finding the section that he was supposed to be explaining. "G sechs?" he questioned, the phrase coming out less pure to sound like "Gay sex".

Gilbert snickered loudly then. One or two other boys of the same maturity level added to the chorus. A woman at the end of his table scowled, nowhere near as amused.

Realizing his blunder, Roderich let his eyes widen before promptly narrowing them behind thin frames. His cheeks heated to a lovely pastel pink in his embarrassment or perhaps frustration. He tried to keep hold of his composure."May I continue the lesson now, Mr. Beilschmidt?"

The albino let his laughter die down. He nodded then, settling for a smirk. "Ja, du kannst."

Huffing, the teacher turned around and headed toward the front of the room again. He paused as he attempted to remember where he had left off. When the thoughts returned to him, he wrote down a few more words on the board before explaining them in depth. Any time he asked or answered a question from then on, his eyes would pause on Gilbert long enough to glare before he would pass over him to point at someone else.

Slipping his arm into the one sleeve of his black hooded sweatshirt, Gilbert peeked into the living room. His younger blonde brother sat on the forest green loveseat. The eleven year old had his eyes glued into a new book series that he had picked up from the school library, "The First Apprentice" or something like that. Gilbert had only been half listening to Ludwig's summary of what had happened so far. It did not help that Ludwig was poor at describing the details of a story with words.

"Hey kiddo," the albino called as tugged at the zipper. The ivory eagle on the right side of his jacket straightened itself out. His brother peeked his azure eyes up over the spine of his novel. "Vati comes home in an hour. I won't be back 'til later. Take care of yourself and feed Gilbird for me, will ya?"

Ludwig nodded. It was not abnormal for his older brother to leave him home alone when he had plans with his friends. He was rather mature for his age though and the house had yet to burn down. Gilbert classified that as a good decision. The younger brother frowned though. "What about my-"

Gilbert had already left the doorway though. Ludwig sighed, shaking his head. He should have expected as much. The college student lacked any sort of attention span or patience. Ludwig sometimes wondered why fate decided that he should be the younger brother.

When the door opened, Gilbert found himself staring at the professor he had taken to ridiculing that afternoon. Roderich jutted his lips to the side, less pleased to see Gilbert than his student was to see him. While there was less of a barrier between student and teacher in college, Roderich built the same kind of relationship with his students that a high school teacher would have. To see his personal life, or rather his two jobs cross was rather unnerving. He wondered why he had not seen it coming though. Beilschmidt was not exactly a common name in Pennsylvania. "I've come for Ludwig's piano lesson," he explained coolly.

Verdammt, he had forgotten all about the piano lessons. Their father had mentioned that he would be paying for them, fifteen bucks for half an hour. He had told them that if they had a piano, someone might as well play it and Gilbert had refused. The only instrument he would ever have the drive to play would be the flute.

"Then don't just stand there," he replied as he stepped out of the doorway.

Roderich welcomed himself inside the house. The door was shut behind him as Gilbert sighed, running a hand through his hair. He pulled his cellphone out of his pocket then, his thumbs instantly striking against his keyboard to tell his friends that he would be making it to the bar late. Before he had the chance to send the message though, Roderich had draped his jacket across Gilbert's arm. The albino scrunched up his nose to show his displeasure as he watched his college professor make himself at home. He grumbled before hanging it up after an internal debate in which he swore his father was arguing with him in his head.

"Hallo," the piano teacher greeted his student. "I know I'm a little earlier zan scheduled, but I assume zat von't be a problem?" he quirked a brow at Ludwig.

The boy tucked away his novel, marking his place with a bookmark before standing. He nodded his head before trailing through the house to lead the teacher toward their piano. Curiosity peaked, Gilbert trailed after them. He watched as his brother exposed the ivory keys after sitting down at the bench. Roderich seated himself next to the boy before instructing him on the best playing technique. It looked the same as when Ludwig randomly pressed the keys, but those who knew the pianist's reputation knew that it was money well spent as he made virtuosos out of many of his students. However, only a few minutes of watching told Gilbert that Roderich was critical, the type of teacher who would push a person, possibly even to the point where they broke or cried, but that was the price of talent.

Plopping down uncouthly on the wooden bar stool, Gilbert offered his two friends a wave. They had saved him a seat at the end of the bar with them, placing him on Francis' left. The blonde waved two fingers as he took a sip from his wine glass. Their Spanish friend, Antonio, leaned forward to wave at him with an absent smile. "Hola Gilly," he greeted.

"Oui, Bonjour, Gilly," Francis echoed after swallowing the numbing liquid. "Sorry that your usual seat is taken." Gilbert usually sat between his two friends, but a red-head seemed to be occupying it instead. He had downed nearly as many beers as Gilbert would have at this point though, not that they were trying to replace him.

Taking hold of the beer in front of him, Gilbert playfully pouted. "I noticed. What's up with that, Franny? That seat has my name on it."

"I know, mon cher, but you were late," Francis argued.

"Ja, ja, so, who's he with?"

"Moi. His name is-"

"I can introduce masel ya know," the ginger cut in as he set his empty mug down with a sharp clink. He certainly was not from the states either. His accent suggested either Scottish or Australian or maybe even Irish. After years of debating which accent the Geico Gecko had, Gilbert had given up on trying to differentiate between any of them. His thick brows and green eyes, catlike, but nowhere near as feral as Antonio's own, suggested that he was probably Scottish or Irish. "Ian Kirkland."

Grasping the outstretched hand, Gilbert shook it. They squeezed tight for a millisecond before pulling away so that they were no longer reaching over Francis and the sleek mahogany bar table that had been scuffed from years of use and lack of coasters. "Gilbert Beilschmidt."

"Well met, Laddie." Ian rose his brows before waving the bartender over for another glass. "I've heard aw aboot ya." He shot a glance at Francis who held his hands up in surrender.

"You said that you wanted to come along," the Frenchman pointed out. Setting one hand down on his lap, the other on Ian's thigh, Francis set his friendly, perhaps overly-friendly, sapphires on his friend. "So, how was your first week back?"

Despite the fact that he knew Francis would have a mere fraction of his attention on him, Gilbert started. "It was awesome, like usual for the awesome me, but then this... prissy teacher ended up showing up to teach that music class that I ended up taking." He smirked. "I got him good though. Kesesese~"

"Hm?" Francis rose a brow, urging his friend to go on as he stroked the place where his right hand rested with his thumb.

Gilbert revisited the trick he had played on Roderich that afternoon. His two friends and new additional drinking acquaintance laughed with much gusto as they pictured the scene. Unlike his brother, Gilbert had excellent storytelling skills, perhaps too excellent as he often embellished on them to make them more grand than they really were. "Yeah, but here's where it bit me in the ass. This priss is little Luddy's piano teacher and I think he's the new band instructor too."

"Hey Franny," Antonio started as he glanced as best he could through the Scotsman at the person he was addressing. Ian was nearly a head taller than Francis so it was a feat naturally said more than done. "Do you remember the last music teacher Gilly had? The one he had a crush on?" he chimed in, totally unaware of how Gilbert may react.

Francis grinned before promptly nodding. "The one from high school, probably millenniums older than us, Friedrich something or rather."

Antonio nodded while scarlets grew to the size of saucers. Gilbert coughed, almost choking on his ale. He pounded a fist against his chest before swallowing what he could down his gullet and not his trachea. "I didn't have a crush on Fritz!" he shouted. "And he was fourty-five, Franny."

The muscles pulled tighter as the expression grew more impish. "Oh really? And how would you know that?"

"B-because he told us one time in band. You wouldn't know because you weren't awesome enough to be in it," Gilbert scrambled, trying to spit the words out faster than was necessary. It did nothing to help his case at all.

"Gilbert, that was the only class you ever tried to ace. Clearly, there was someone you were trying to impress."

Wet palms hurried to clutch onto an empty beer mug. Stalling, he managed to retrieve one drop from the bottom of the glass. Gilbert unzipped his sweatshirt in hopes that the heat in his face would be attributed to the warmth in the room and nothing else. "The hot chick next to me on first chair was an honors girl. I had to tell her I was good at something." Ironically though, it was not hard to earn an "A" in music as it was graded much like gym class, for participation. Only when one was put in the spotlight to play a part were they really graded for anything.

Humming in sarcastic belief, Francis nodded. "Sure you were, Gilly. I'm just saying that history has a habit of repeating itself."

"I didn't have a crush on him," Gilbert insisted. It was the truth. His relationship between Friedrich was more personal than it should have been, but it had not been romantic. Friedrich had been more of a father-like mentor. He had been the man to convince Gilbert that he had talent, that the flute was a much more noble instrument than it was given credit for. "And I'm too awesome to fall for some..."

"Piano shagger?" Ian added in Gilbert's search for an insult. "'least that's whit he sound like ta me."

Snorting, the albino nodded. They had been there little over an hour and he could already say that he was going to like this guy, not that he would be around for very long. To quote a song that Gilbert found to be horrible, Francis would often "change his mind like a girl changes clothes", which applied to jobs, love relationships, but never his friends.

"Yeah, Franny. I'm too awesome to fall for a piano shagger," Gilbert said, putting the two thoughts together in one sentence.

Giving up, Francis nodded before sipping at his whine glass again. He knew when he was beaten, but he would know if the time came for him to gloat about being right. Antonio took that as his cue to start up a new incredibly irrelevant topic for them to discuss. They spent the rest of the evening simply chatting.

The last notes of the piece hung in the air, reverberating on the walls specifically designed to have such excellent acoustics. Every instrument remained up as if there were notes left to play. Sections could be seen in banners of gold, black, and silver, while the percussion was scrambled in the back.

Professor Edelstein lowered his hands, silently telling the whole band to relax. It created a wave as all of the instruments fell down into rest positions. He dismissed the students for the evening then, taxing on the date and time of next weeks session before motioning toward the currently closed slate double doors. Everyone filtered off the stage in an instant. Music sheets shuffled off of the black metal stands and into folders. Students packed away instruments until their next practice, which could mean until their next meeting for some. They talked amongst friends before filing out of the building to head home or to their dorms.

Gilbert pulled apart his flute with care. He cleaned each section of the instrument before setting all three pieces into the navy padding of the ebony case. The latches clicked shut after he closed the lid. His music was shoved haphazardly into his folder, it holding much less value to him in comparison to his flute.

When he glanced up again, the conductor and nearly all of the other students were gone. He located Roderich quickly, though, as the teacher had only slipped into his office nearby. Gilbert could see him in the window, sitting on his leather swivel chair behind his desk. It was a neat and organized work place, but very impersonal. The only item that hinted into his private life was a photograph of him and a young woman with beautiful honey brown hair that rested in the middle of her back and striking emerald eyes. A pink flower was tucked in her hair behind her one ear and she wore a white wedding dress. Roderich stood beside her in an elegant tuxedo that suited him perfectly. Despite the splendor of the photo, it sat on the bookshelf in a plain metal frame.

As the albino headed for the door, he saw the same woman from the photo, albeit a little older, probably twenty-five years old now, head for the teacher's office. While her outer appearance read her to be calm, her rushed and heavy footsteps and the slamming of the office door told him otherwise.

Pausing, Gilbert heard a loud shrill shout come from her in a language that was neither English nor German. She ranted and soon a session of German followed her shouts. The walls and the door itself were thin, allowing for the stern voice that was now speaking to be heard on top of hers. Their conversation sounded less than friendly, especially given what he could translate.

Too nosy to simply leave outright, Gilbert hovered in the music room, listening. He had been right earlier, Roderich was easier to understand when speaking German. His words were not as harsh as the language was portrayed, in fact, the only thing that made the oddly sweet sound harsh was the tone the professor used with his wife. When he finally went to leave, the woman beat him to the exit. She stormed out, grumbling to herself. Was that Hungarian she was speaking?

Roderich jogged after her, hoping to catch up. He did not pass Gilbert a glance at all as he called after the woman. Her name was Elizabeta. Stopping at the doorway, Roderich sighed. He faltered, crumpling against the doorway. A shaky hand pushed his spectacles up before he propped himself up to a stand again, recovering quickly. As he turned to head to his office again, he spotted Gilbert. "Kann ich dir helfen?"

Gilbert opened his mouth and normally, he would have spoken, but for once, he realized that it was time for him to stay silent. He shook his head before strolling out of the building to go hail a cab.

"Beilschmidt, see me after class," Professor Edelstein began. "Dismissed"

With a sigh, Gilbert began to pack up his barren notebook. He only brought it so that he would seem busy. It was loaded into his backpack before he headed for the short table at the front that housed what Roderich needed for that class. The teacher brushed at the white board with an eraser, chipping away at the words as his arm swished back and forth like a windshield wiper. A few students called out farewells to him and waved. He halfheartedly called out after them.

"Is this about last week?" Gilbert asked with a raised brow. The teacher had to have figured out that he saw or at least heard the argument between him and his spouse. If he were in Roderich's shoes, he would have threatened a student witness into silence.

Roderich shook his head. He smiled bitterly. "No, zis has nothing to do vith my sham of a marriage or vhat you saw. But it has everything to do vith zis." Setting down the eraser now that the board was clean, he joined his student at his makeshift desk. A test paper was slid across the table for Gilbert to see. It had been out of fifty points and only two had been scored. "Tell me vhat you see here."

"My test," Gilbert answered plainly, not seeing the point despite how it was staring at him plainly.

"I see failure due to laziness und general apathy," Professor Edelstein corrected. He set both hands on the table to balance himself as he leaned forward, closing the distance between their faces to add an intensity to his statement. "I know you can do better zan zat. Although, zis isn't much of a matter of can, but of a must. If you don't pass this class, you don't graduate. Failure doesn't get you credits," he chided, breath hot against Gilbert's face.

Gilbert turned his head away, crinkling his nose some, not because the teacher was in need of a breath mint, but because he refused to admit what he was saying was true. "So?"

Roderich sighed before seating himself in the chair. After scooting forward, he folded his hands as he stared up at Gilbert. "How about zis? If you can show me improvement, I'll let you retake zat test. It's a rather large chunk of your grade und I vould rather not have you in another one of my classes."

The albino snorted. "I thought only high school teachers did that," he pointed out. Besides, if he failed this class, he could always take one that Roderich was not teaching to fill up the credit, not that he wanted to have to come back to school any longer than was required.

"I'm feeling generous, but vhat you do vith my offer is up to you."

Gilbert adjusted the single strap of his backpack to prevent it from digging into his shoulder. He paused as if thinking before he sneered. "All right, you're on, Teach."

There was a small tug at the corner of the professor's lips. It faded as soon as it had come though as he shooed Gilbert off so that he could prepare for his next class.

The smell of cologne and cigarette smoke wafted up into his nostrils as Gilbert descended the stairs into the bar. He had finished texting his friends seconds ago to tell them that they had arrived. While their meetings were weekly, he had showing up about once a month after the challenge had been proposed. His excuse changed every so often as he did not want them to belittle him in his thoughts. He did his best to hide his hard work from the rest of the world, letting his work speak for itself.

It seemed like everyone who knew him had decided to show up at the bar, even Ian. He and Francis fought often, but for reasons that Gilbert could not quite fathom, they were still together. During a week that they fought, Ian would not show up, which was almost every week that Gilbert decided to go. All three of them were there though, waiting for him with an already ordered beer.

"What took you so long, Gilly?" Francis asked with a pout, his bottom lip poking out in a far too perfect manner.

Gilbert rolled his eyes, having a strong immunity to Francis's pout. "I was studying."

"That's been your excuse for awhile now, mi amigo," Antonio started. "For what class? Professor Edelstein's?" Gilbert's silence confirmed that fact to be true.

"Trying to impress someone again?" Francis teased.

"Nein," the albino growled. "He's going to let me retake a test if I do well for the rest of the semester."

With a Chesire cat grin, Francis shifted in as close to his friend as his stool would allow. "Gilly, you know, there are other ways to earn extra credit." He winked then.

"I already told you-" Gilbert started to correct his friend.

"You know, I heard that there was a school for that in Austria. I wonder if he went."

"Francis."

"Well, you can always stay after class and put a desk to good use."

"Francis!" Gilbert shouted, face heated. He gave his sharply dressed friend an equally sharp shove, nearly making his stool topple. Francis fell to the side, clinging to Ian's blue t-shirt so that he wouldn't fall. The Scotsman helped right him with a sigh.

"Ya had that 'un commin'," Ian scolded.

"Mon amour, why must you be so cruel," Francis whined, hating it when it seemed as his own world had somehow turned against him. He clung to the ginger's arm, not planning on letting go anytime soon. Ian sighed before tilting his head down to press his lips against the blonde's forehead. Francis brightened some, reclaiming those lips with his own.

Antonio frowned, tilting his head to the side in his confusion. "I thought you said that he was married," he muttered, seeing a flaw in the apparent plan that Francis had.

Francis waved a dismissive hand as he broke away from Ian. "From what he said, they won't be married much longer anyway. Besides, I'd much rather see our petite Gilly be happy than some Hungarian brute."

The Spaniard slanted his lips before nodding. "Si, I guess that's true."

"Ja, except I don't want him. That bitch can have him, maybe I'll be lucky and she'll lock him up somewhere like a psycho." Which was perhaps the greatest lie that Gilbert had ever told. Trying to prove Roderich wrong had been his original intention, but the truth was that he had already taken the make-up exam. Now it really was a simple manner of impressing him, wanting to see that jaw drop before he was given a proper reward and it sure as hell better be more than an "A+" or a sticker that said "Good job".

"But then how are you supposed to get that passing grade, Gilly?"

Gilbert frowned, not having thought that far to see that flaw in his statement. He mulled over his beer with a sigh before putting the cool rim to his lips. He tilted his head back to finish off the first of many beverages.

Nearly any person can recall a time when they found it near impossible to focus on a lesson. Maybe they had stayed up too late one night, maybe it was the teacher's monotonous voice, or they were distracted. During one night of band practice, that very situation had befallen Gilbert, who was far too distracted to pay very much attention to anything at all.

They were fine tuning a piece that day for an end of the year concert. Roderich was doing his best to pick the whole piece apart measure by measure to see if there were any flaws and if there were, what section it was in.

Gilbert let crimsons stare on, utterly too engrossed with Roderich Edelstein's image. The expression changes were slight, but they often turned his lips thin, allowing a heavy accent to fall on the mole that rested on the left side of his lips. Slender, graceful pianist fingers would point, curl, and twitch. There were times when they arched as if he needed something to relieve hidden stress that was added upon by the troublesome pieces. Roderich strolled among his students, strides smooth and wide, bring him closer and closer as he transitioned through the different sections.

Soon, his imagination decided that it would run wild with him, choosing to entertain him as he sat still, not daring to breath too hard as if he would shattered the world around him. The rest of the students faded, leaving the albino alone in his seat, flute and stand gone, discarded as they came to be of little importance. Roderich strolled toward him, carefully sliding to sit down in his lap, ankles crossing over his as the professor's feet rested on the floor. Gilbert grunted, startled with the image.

The jabot around the teacher's neck was shed before it slipped around his own, drawing the baffled albino closer to him. Hot breath tickled his neck and lips ghosted over it, the sensations prickling against his skin memories from when he had the occasional escapade. Those lips were so soft and the kisses were like honey as they trailed up and down slowly. As Gilbert let his eyes fall closed, he could feel imaginary scrapes of teeth and a tongue that graced over the new love bites.

This image shattered, replaced by another. Gilbert heard the harsh snap of what he swore was a riding crop. He remembered Fritz swatting him with one a few times over the head or simply smacking it down against a surface to gain his classes' attention. While the method was questionable, it worked wonders. However, it was not the scolding voice of his old teacher that whispered in his ear. No, it was a foreign one holding a softer accent and lust. "Ready for your next lesson?" it whispered.

Reality smacked the albino full force in the face as the voice spoke again. "Gilbert, vhile I appreciate your attention, I asked you to play," Roderich scolded. He crossed his arms before impatiently tapping his foot against the ground.

Crimson eyes jolted open and Gilbert shook his head to clear it, face immediately heating to a tomato red. "Y-yeah," he stared. He always hated it when Francis was right...

"You may now move your tassels from the right side to the left," the dean declared from the podium of the stadium.

The day had finally come. Gilbert had made up the test and passed every class with exceptional grades, well, for him anyway. He sat among his fellow graduates in his black robes. He took hold of his tassel, moving it from the right to the left side as requested. It had taken them long enough. Not only did he have to sit through several speeches, but he swore there had been eighty people with last names starting with "A" and then the left over "B"s to go before him and they all so happened to be going for the same diploma.

All of the graduates were welcomed to go downstairs for the reception. People mingled, all of them happy, smiling, laughing. They munched on the supplied cookies and sipped at their punch from Styrofoam cups. Some students talked with favorite teachers. Gilbert would be no such exception. He spotted the man he was looking for as if he were wearing a neon sign that invited him over. He tried to discretely make a beeline toward him as he weaved through the alumni. "Hey..." he started, nowhere near as confident as he had hoped when he finally did approach him.

Beautiful amethysts started out distant before fading into the moment again as they recognized that their owner was being addressed. Roderich smiled softly. "Vell, you managed to pass my class," he muttered gently.

"Ja..." Gilbert agreed. He watched as Professor Edelstein nudged his glass up to mop at the sweat threatening to fall into his eye. It had been an unforgiving morning as the sun had beat down on the world as it made promises for summer. Unfortunately, the air-conditioning had broken just before the ceremony so those in robes were forced to suffer. A dull peachy smudge appeared on the black sleeve of the teacher's robe. Gilbert drew his brows together before noticing that the smudge had been make-up wiped away to reveal the dark black and blue coloring that created a ring around Roderich's eye. "Who gave you the shiner?"

Roderich froze, realizing what had occurred.. "I'd rather not say." The albino shook his head, silently assuring him that he didn't have to. "But I can assure you, ze papers vill be filed soon," he grumbled under his breath. Divorce papers, it took them long enough, not that Gilbert was positive who would be doing the actual filing part.

"You sound like you need a drink," Gilbert teased. "You can always come with me. My friends and I were going to go out tonight." They had planned to celebrate his accomplishment and after hearing so much about the teacher (especially after Francis decided to rub in that he had been right), he doubted that any of them would have a problem with him coming along.

The music teacher snorted before shaking his head. "I don't drink, but thank you for ze offer." There was a moment of silence until Roderich started up again. "Have you ever thought about joining a more professional orchestra?" Gilbert shook his head. "I entered one promptly after moving here. Ve recently lost a first chair flute so if you are in need of any vork..."

The albino laughed. "Like I want to see you any more than I already have to." Roderich let his eyes dart to the side with guilt. He had not really thought much on that. "They having auditions?"

A small smile crept onto the Austrian's face. "Two veeks from now. If you vanted, ve could... discuss it over coffee next veek before summer classes start."

Returning the expression, Gilbert nodded. "I'm free Thursday." A lie considering he really had nothing planned at all. He was sure that his father would find something for him to do between now and then though, probably move out if the albino continued to push his luck there.

"Thursday zen," Roderich confirmed. "Don't forget ze piece you plan to audition vith."

Gilbert groaned. That sounded like more work than he sought to do. If he had the chance to see Roderich more often though, he supposed his awesomeness could spend a few days searching for an audition piece.

Translation Notes:

G sechs - G6

(If you pronounce this with a northern German accent, the "s" sound will sound more like that of a "z", but due to the fact that Roderich comes from Austria, it is pronounced with more of an English "s" sound, which makes it come out to sound like "Gay sex". Friends of mine convinced me to say this once, but I possess the northern accent when speaking.)

Ja, du kannst. - Yes, you can.

Verdammt - Damn

Hallo - Hello

Hola - Hello

Oui, Bonjour - Yes, hello

mon cher - my dear (male)

Ja - Yes

Moi - Me

Kann ich dir helfen? - Can I help you?

Nein - No

Mon amour - My love

Si - Yes

Author's Notes:

While this is very irrelevant to the story, the book that Little Luddy was actually reading was "The Last Apprentice". I was trying to think of a children's series for someone his age and I somehow saw him being interested in that one. I've only ever read the first two books myself.

Moving on. This was, I guess you could say, a Christmas present to myself. (Aren't I greedy? Although, I guess you, as my read, don't mind). I've been wanting to write this Teacher!Roderich x College Student!Gilbert scenario for awhile now. I felt like I needed a break from my multichapter "Kneeling at Your Feat", but I can assure you that I will be writing the next one up over break. I may even finish it with all the free time I'll have. I snuck in one of my other favorite and less popular pairings France x Scotland for my own personal amusement as well. Scotland seems like he could have been part of the trio, but due to how often he and Francis fight, he only shows up every once and awhile. I'm not sure if any of you found my poor attempts at comedy in this to be funny or not, but, this humored me at any rate. (Gilbert needs to stop basing his imagination off strip clubs and movies though.)

Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed this oneshot.


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